Peace is a Lie
by Kami2015
Summary: It is a time of darkness. The REPUBLIC has fallen, and in it's place an EMPIRE. Coming of age among Mandalorion mercenaries, Karrel's family makes a daring raid on the Imperial controlled world of Ossus, in search of a JEDI HOLOCRON. Little do they know, that a dark secret waits below for them. One that Karrel can not escape.
1. Chapter 1

Peace is a Lie

Chapter 1: Pilot

_ Ozone fills the air, the smell of death not far behind. Screams of children can be heard down the hall. There is confusion, disbelief. It is impossible. Weapons ignite only to be snuffed out by the assassin or his legion of white monsters. Thunderous footsteps that once brought comfort, now only signal the end. Blaster bolts burn ancient tapestries, deflected by their targets in a last ditch attempt to save their lives. However, unlike the artwork that they destroyed their efforts would not be made eternal. Thousands scream out in agony, in terror, in rage._

_ Pushing, yelling, and crawling. The noise is too much. A young boy, no more than ten, is grabbed by a bearded man in a cloak. They run, dodging blue they as they make their frantic escape to freedom. The boy's savior pulls out his weapon, a wraith of green fire. With one hand he fends off death itself, returning it to its source. The boy finds himself falling, crying as his savior disappears into the fray of battle._

"Oi!" A gruff adolescent voice yells at him, "Little brother! Get your six out of bed before father puts one between your eyes."

With a start, Karrel wakes from his fitful sleep. He runs a slightly browned hand through his long dirty blonde hair. He checks his surroundings, running through the checklist of things his father had taught him. He is safe, his blaster is under his pillow, and all of his sense are intact. Satisfied, Karrel swings his leg out of bed, dropping gracefully from the top bunk.

His bare feet come in contact with the cold dursteel of the _Ileana_, causing him to shiver. As usual, his father was keeping the temperature aboard the small frigate to near freezing conditions. To him, being Mandalorian was being able to survive naked in places that even a Wookkiee would have trouble in/ Disregarding this, Karrel drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups. Is muscle is lean but strong. Still growing, his fifteen year old frame had yet to fill out with muscle like his brother or father. His palms are tough, callused from years of combat holding a variety of weapons. Even at fifteen, he knew how to fire just about any weapon manufactured from the Core to the Outer Rim.

When he reaches one-hundred push-ups, Karrel allows himself to take a deep breath. A thin trickle of sweat is beginning to form on his brow. He smiles, satisfied that he was getting faster in his morning training regiment. While stretching he looks himself over in the mirror near his bed.

The newest burn on his face was beginning to heal. It's red mark now pale, a sign of healing. His bright blue eyes move down his frame, smiling as he finds not an ounce of fat on him. Despite being young, there not an inch of his body that is not covered by lean, powerful, muscle. Turning away from his reflection, Karrel continues to run through his morning work-out routine. As a thin layer of sweat form on his brow he stops.

Taking a towel, Karrel dries himself off before slipping into a thin, black, body suit. The underlay to his armor offers little protection but does help regulate his temperature. Unlike the nearly primitive style employed by the Imperial Stormtrooper Corps, this underlay actually has chemicals in it that heighten the sense and can administer small bacta boosts in order to gives his body a jumpstart in emergencies. Next, he grabs his shoulder plates and snaps them into place. Actually taken from two different sets of armor, the left plate is a dark green while the right is a bright red. Unlike his brother and father, his armor is not complete and as a result most of his forearms remain bare, though it does protect his joints from trauma. He takes this time to inspect his greaves, the black set of armor for his legs. It is scarred and burned from its previous owner, a testament to how tenacious the man had been. Still, that had not stopped Karrel from shooting him last year on their mission to Onderon. Last, he puts his black chest piece into place. While it did not cover his whole body, this piece of armor allowed him greater mobility. Overall his armor, while lacking in total protection, allows Karrel greater mobility and stealth options that his father and brother do not have.

"Hey idiot," His older brother calls from outside in Mand'o, "Father said get your ass out here. We're about ready to drop out of hyperspace."

"Keep your bucket on," Karrel yells back, also in Mand'o, "I'll be there in a second."

"Don't keep us waiting little brother," His brother finishes, getting the last word as usual.

Placing his DC-15 on his hip, Karrel exits his bunk and makes his way to the living space aboard their tiny ship. The living area had been stripped bare, only the faded green paint from its previous owner remained. The chairs were being occupied by four figures in hulking Mandalorian armor, their t-shaped visors hiding any differences between them.

The warrior clad in orange next to him is a Twi'lek, former slave who had killed her Hutt master at the age of eight and had snuck her way onto a ship. She had been adopted by Karrel's father into their clan, and he knew not to underestimate his alien older sister Verina.

On her right is a giant of a man, made more imposing by his blood red heavy plated armor. Standing at over two meters of pure muscle, Dravik Ordo is their sniper. Across his lap are the components of a Verpine sniper rifle, heavily modified to suit Davik's secondary position as a heavy weapons expert. By simply removing the barrel, one could equip the grenade launcher addition that Davik had installed.

Finally, Karrel looked to his brother and father. Despite his brother wearing orange armor and his father wearing black, their Mandalorian armor is identical. On their right wrist is a concealed flamethrower, on the left a dart launcher. Karrel's adopted father stood just under two meters, only narrowly taller than his biological son. In comparison, Karrel feels quite tiny.

"Took you long enough," His older brother says through his visor, "I thought you were never going to wake up."

"Leave the pup alone Vijand," Verina scolds, "He's here isn't he?"

"You could at least out your helmet on," Vijand insists, "It's the way little brother."

"Cut the chatter," Their father barks, moving towards the navigation panel, "We're about to drop into Ossus's system. I don't want any funny stuff, we go in, we get the holocron, and we get out. Our employer is not going to pay for a damaged Jedi artifact, so be careful."

"Who is paying s for this?" Karrel asks as he slips in his black t-visor helmet, "I've read the reports, Ossus is a nasty place. I'm not sure even a Jedi relic could survive here. I don't know about the rest of you but I have a bad feeling about this."

"The Force is a powerful thing," Davik sagely tells them, "If anything can survive the Clone Wars and the environment down there, it'll be something the Jedi made."

"What are you a kriffing Jedi?" Vijand laughs, playfully hitting Davik, "You don't actually believe in the Force do you? Everyone knows that the Jedi's powers are just exaggerations."

"I fought against them," Davik reminds the younger man, "I've seen a Jedi cut down an entire battalion of battle droids, by herself. They can jump higher than your thrust pack can take you and their lightsabers are lethal. If a Jedi wanted to build a holocron to last the ages, I would believe it."

"Too bad they got themselves killed," Karrel says to himself, "I think a Jedi would be a great challenge."

"What part of cut the chatter do you not understand?" Karrel's father snaps, "Gather round for the mission briefing."

"This is our objective," Karrel's father explains, holding up a blue hologram of a small temple, "A library used by the Jedi back when they controlled Ossus."

"We have reason to believe that the Empire has also discovered that this holocron exists, and they want to claim it for themselves."

"Poor bastards," Vijand whisper to Karrel.

"In the best scenario we can avoid the Imperial patrols in the smaller library itself because they'll be searching the main temple," Their father says, changing the image to the larger temple complex, "However, I don't like leaving that kind of thing up to chance. Which is why we're going to need a distraction."

"Sarge, if I may," Verina says, standing next to him, "The distraction team is going to have to engage the greatest number of hostiles."

"Which is why the three of us," Their father says, motioning to Davik and Verina, "We'll be acting as bait. We make it seem like we got out Intel wrong, and the plastic boys will be all over us.

"Giving the two of you," Their father continues, now pointing at them, "A clear shot at the holocron."

"Let me go with you!" Karrel insists, "Let me prove myself a man, a Mandalorian."

"I couldn't agree more," His father says with a nod, "Which is why you'll be leading your brother on your mission. Consider it your wright of passage."

"No offense father, but shouldn't I lead the mission?" Vijand interjects, "I have more experience."

"Karrel needs to learn to stand on his own two feet," Verina explains, "It's not a question of your ability. Be his brother in this instance, let him grow into a man."

"I won't let you down father," Karrel says with a bow, "We'll come back with that holocron."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Vijand declares while loading his rifle, "Let's go hunting little brother."


	2. Chapter 2

Peace is a Lie

Chapter 2: _Ori'vod_

Through Karrel's helmet, he can see the world of Ossus fill his vision. It has the air of a world forgotten, abandoned long ago by its original protectors. War waged by both sentients and nature itself had forced the Jedi from their once great citadel. Green skies and dying plants attest the sheer amount of punishment this planet had endured. The Force worked through life, according to Davik, and it was likely that it had played a hand in reflecting the planet's twisted history back on itself. .Even their filters cannot totally eliminate the smell of savagery and decay.

"Hey, _verd'ikai," _Vijand says over their comlink, "You're not shaking are ya?"

"Don't call me that _utreekovv_," Karrel warns, motioning to his pistol, "I'm your commanding officer remember?"

"Maybe for this mission. But we both know that father sent me with you because you need all the help you can get _verd'ikai_, so watch your mouth," Vijand taunts, "You are almost a man, but you're not a man yet."

"Just stay focused on what we have to do," Karrel concedes, adopting a submissive tone, "Do you have the map?"

Vijand streams a copy of Ossus' terrain. Their target is in a clearing about two clicks from the LZ, and covered in thick jungle. In order to make it to each temple in time, Karrel and Vijand will be deploying via thruster pack. Their model, while older, would provide the two Mandalorian youths with a stealthy and fast way to reach the ground. Once their boots touch dirt, they would have exactly four hours to reach the library and retrieve the holocron. Any longer, and the Imperials that are on planet might detect their presence. A four hour firefight would normally be impossible, but between the forests and his father's squads Mandalorian training it would be more that possible.

"It's going to take at least a standard hour for us to reach the temple complex," Karrel mutters to himself, "That means we only have three hours to find the damn thing. That's assuming the Jedi never installed a security system."

"We only have two hours," Vijand reminds him, "It will take an hour to walk back _evaar_."

"Ok then, two hours to search," Karrel agrees, "Now, how do you want to handle any security."

Vijand grips his rifle, and Karrel can imagine his brother smiling under his helmet. Shoot first and ask questions later, that was Vijand's style. His preference for the loud, yet effective, approach had saved their hides on more than one occasion. Deferring to his older brother, Karrel snaps a fresh power pack into his own DC-15 and steps to the edge of the hanger.

"You two ready?" Their father's voice asks, "Once you jump, we won't be contact you until pick up. Set your mission clocks to four hours, any longer and we'll come looking for you personally."

"Relax old man," Vijand assure their father with a laugh, "Me and the kid will be back before you know it. Just keep the calf on for us."

"And what do you have to say for yourself Karrel?" His father asks him, "Ready, son?"

"As I'll ever be," Karrel says, smiling under his helmet, "Let's show them some aggressive negotiations."

Taking a running start, Karrel leaps from the low flying cruiser. His thrust pack reacts to his sudden change in altitude and activates. The pack slows his descent, smoking and igniting as it does. The ground quickly approaches, forcing Karrel to tuck and roll to avoid injury. He throws off the now useless thrust pack, out of fuel it will only be a burden. Within seconds, his brother drops next to him, drawing his rifle as he lands.

Mimicking his brother, Karrel does the same with his pistol. They check their landing zone, using their scanners and eyes to look for any signs of life. When nothing appears, Vijand points towards the forest and Karrel silently complies. They move through the forest like ghosts, avoiding comm chatter to avoid any excess chance of Imperials locating them. Small birds and mammals move above their head, but the two Mandalorian stay focused on their task at hand.

"Atmosphere's breathable," Vijand tells him, taking off his helmet for a moment, "And this jungle is messing with my sensors."

"I knew dad should have sprung for the upgrades," Karrel says, taking off his helmet and steeping forward, "I'm picking up every little thing that moves in this damn jungle."

"We're better off just going by sight," Vijand agrees, "Do you want to take point?"

"You have the Verp," Karrel tells him, motioning towards his own weapon, "My DC-15's falling apart as it is. I only want to use it at close range."

"You should consider buying something sturdier," His brother scolds, refusing to move, "That Clone Wars era stuff is practically antique. Pick up an E-11 next time we run across a Stromtrooper. Or maybe get a DL-44 if you really want to stick with pistols, those things are like a hand cannon."

"E-11's are inaccurate as hell, and the DL-44 is just not durable," Karrel tells his brother, "Just take point, that's an order."

"Forget it little brother," Vijand says with a shrug, "I don't care what dad said, I don't take orders from you."

Karrel feels anger wells up inside him. It was always like this, Vijand had to be in charge or nothing was going to get done. Despite having better equipment and more training, it is always Karrel that has to meet danger head on first. Even on this mission, his mission, Vijand has to remind him who is the older brother.

"Unless you're a coward," Vijand taunts, "Your first mission as leader and you get cold feet, making your subordinates take a risk you're unwilling to face yourself. That's not our way, little brother."

"And disobeying your commanding officer is treason," Karrel counters, "Vijand, you have the kit for this. Just take point, we don't have time to be wasting arguing like this."

"Being your older brother is out ranking you," Vijand says, gesturing for Karrel to move forward, "So, after you."

"Bantha poodoo," Karrel swears. He takes point, his pistol at the ready. "You know, one day you're going to have to listen to me."

"And that day is not today," His brother says with cheek, "Get marching."

They march through the forest, sweat beginning to run down their brows as they force their way through alien foliage. With each step, Karrel gets more nauseous. So far their journey had been relatively easy. Not a sign of Imperials outside of some distant gunfire, and nothing the planet possess seems to want to oppose their approach. Karrel had heard of powerful natives that still lived on the planet. Supposedly, they were the savage descendants of the poor Jedi that had been on world when Ossus became a cesspool. According to some of his sources, they were also Force sensitive.

Their scanners beep to life as they detect three life forms ahead of them. Slamming their back hard against a tree, the brothers ready their weapon and begin to look over their shoulders. Barely visible through the thick foliage are the distinct white body armor of Imperial Stormtroopers. They seem lost, Karrel noticing that they keep pacing as if they are waiting for something.

Karrel motions his brother to move up, but Vijand shakes his head. As he repeats the motion, Vijand reaches into his pack for a silver orb. Karrel recognizes the device as a sonic detonator. While not nearly as lethal as a thermal detonator or a frag grenade, sonic detonators could be used to disrupt a victim's sense of hearing and balance. Effective for crowd control, their father's crew liked to keep a few handy in case they had to take a particularly difficult bounty alive. Anything with at least human level hearing would have a hard time shrugging off on of those.

_Don't do it_, Karrel pleads silently with his brother, _Not on my first mission as team lead._

Imaging the smile under his scarlet helmet, Vijand rolls the grenade towards the feet of their targets. Sighing, Karrel turns off his helmet's ability to pick up sounds, effectively deafening himself. There is a flash of light, and the Mandalorians move in for the kill. Silently they roll into the clearing. Silently they go back to back. Silently they fire off several rounds into the stunned Imperials. The engagement lasts only a few seconds before Karrel turns on his helmet's sound receptors.

"What in the nine hells do you think you're doing!" Karrel angrily whispers to his brother, "You could have given away our position you _di'kut_!"

"But I didn't," Vijand replies calmly, "Look, we're on the clock. I don't have time to watch you stumble through some complicated plan to take out five Imperials. May way is faster."

"I'm in charge."

"You keep saying that but I just don't see it," Vijand says, pushing his shoulder as he walks past him, "Coming?"

Clenching his fists, Karrel follows his brother into the dark library. Something catches his ear though, causing Karrel to momentarily pause. His spine tingles as his brother forces the door to the library open, and as the putrid air of decay escape the tomb of knowledge, Karrel grips his pistol tighter.

"I have a very bad feeling about this," Karrel says to himself as steps into line behind his brother.

**AN: All italicized words are **_**Mand'o**_**, or Mandalorian. You can find a dictionary online, or I can start to provide translations if you so desire. Alright, keep on keeping on people!**


End file.
